i.m. Bettina Gorton
i.
When I drive through freeway towns I look for youin the sealed front doors of houses, turned away.
I look for you on the couch-grass lawns of February suburbsbetween the privet hedge and standard roses with your back to the street.
When I come home from winter holidays I can tell you have been theredrinking window after window of light till it is emptied and grey.
I thi ... (read more)